Sacrificial Lamb
by Ladyamesindy
Summary: The time has come for Commander Jayce Shepard to face the music for her actions in batarian space. But at what cost for the rest of the galaxy?


History, it seemed, was about to repeat itself. And not just for the first time. No, the error in judgement here was just as egregious as it had been the first time it had happened - whenever _that_ had been. Despite all of her encounters and research, Jayce Shepard still did not know when exactly this had all begun.

But she knew without a doubt, it was going to happen again. And soon. Only this time ... this time on a magnitude and scale that was far worse than anything anyone in her present could find imaginable. Nobody, it seemed, would listen to or heed her warnings. Though not exactly the same as had happened following the defense of the Citadel, there were similarities. Her fears weren't so much categorized as 'myth' this time; rather, she was being made a sacrificial lamb in order to placate the batarians and keep them from going to war against the humans.

_Smoke and mirrors_. That was the nearest Jayce could think to describe it.

It was the Council again, only much, much worse. It was her own military; her home. And in the end, it would inevitably result in an inordinate number of deaths, mostly innocents. All because of politics. All because she had done what she had to do. Someone had to pay.

_You have been relieved of command._

Standing proudly, straight and tall, Lieutenant Commander Jayce Shepard felt the numbing cold creep along her spine, inching slowly throughout her body like a spidery web, slowly taking over control of every limb as she listened to the results of the 'hearing' she'd been subjected to over these past few weeks being read aloud for all in the room to hear. Staring straight ahead, though her eyes were not focused on any one thing or person in particular, she remained as she always was for others to see: outwardly calm, collected, contained, controlled. Inwardly, however, she felt caught in a downward spiral from which she might never escape. Any flash or flare of emotional reaction would remain contained until such time as she would be alone. _Alone._

A hand at her elbow a moment later had her turning; eyes lifting to meet Anderson's, Hackett's in passing; again, on the far side of the room. And still, she kept it all contained. The world could have been going to hell and a handbasket around her - point of fact, it was - and she wouldn't have noticed just then.

_… shall remain under house arrest until such time as …._

She understood the reasoning behind this, in a way she accepted that part of it. Before the military tribunal had even started, Jayce had been made fully aware of the likely outcome when she returned to Earth. Hell, even back before she'd undertaken the specific mission on behalf of Admiral Hackett, she'd guessed she would become the object of some sort of witch hunt if it had gone bad. The taking on of a 'personal favor' for the Admiral had been risky, but the importance of the mission couldn't be ignored. On the other hand, to find out the person you were to be rescuing had been indoctrinated? That had sealed Jayce's involvement in her mind, right then and there. Her reasons for taking on the mission had been right. Just. True. There was also the tiny (and completely overlooked!) fact that she had kept the Reapers from invading the galaxy at that particular point in time. However, when her only 'proof' lay in the lost lives of over three hundred thousand batarians and a destroyed mass relay and star system, well ….

The end result, though, was more than just Jayce's removal from the entire process of preparing for dealing with the 'Reaper threat' when it arrived. If she had been given another assignment, hell even a desk job, she still could have been aiding the efforts. She _KNEW_ they were coming. She _STILL_ had nightmares from the Prothean visions inside her head. Of Harbinger's warnings at Aratoht and later at the Collector Base. The signs were out there, visible to anyone who looked for them.

So what had Alliance Command done?

_House arrest. Relieved of command. No further access …._

Turning her head ever so slightly, Jayce scanned the small crowd gathered in the gallery. Several familiar faces were present, other expected ones were not. Ignoring the slice of pain in her chest at that, Jayce allowed herself to be led from the chamber by Lieutenant Vega once the decision had been rendered. Once outside the room, they began walking side by side back towards the detention center, but her motions were those of an automaton. She was just … numb.

_Lieutenant James Vega_.

Now there was an unexpected surprise in this whole fiasco, Jayce thought. She didn't know much about him yet - her access to personnel files had been restricted from the moment she returned - but he seemed a solid, upstanding sort of soldier. He was more than obviously fit for service, had a unique sense of humor and a slight hint of irreverence that, if it wouldn't quite get him discharged from the service, at least he managed to use it to get a hint of a smile from Jayce on the few occasions it had come into play so far. She wished him luck from this point forward, though. She could feel that downward spiral grasping at her, dark and cloying hands trying to pull her into its vortex.

When they arrived at the detention center, Jayce waited patiently (it wasn't _his_ fault she was in this mess, she reminded herself) as he opened the door to allow her in. The minute she was behind closed doors, her hands rose and quickly released the catches to her dress uniform jacket. This, she tossed aside with violence, a hint at the flash of anger that could be found skimming just beneath her normally serene surface. She chose to ignore Vega's appreciative chuckle.

"I'll be back in ten or fifteen with your lunch, Commander," he told her as he turned back outside.

She thought to tell him not to bother, her appetite had fled with the reading of the verdict, but instead Jayce snorted softly. "You're not supposed to call me that, James," she tossed out, however by the time she'd spoken, the door had closed behind him. _Ah well._

Rolling her eyes, she moved to take a seat on the desk chair nearby. Turning it so she could look out the window, she found herself staring out beyond, but not really seeing. Her thoughts quickly found a different track to take.

_Where is he?_ she wondered. _"You aren't alone." "We are already working on a defense strategy." _

Jayce closed her eyes for a long moment, savoring the sense of reassurance those words had given her at the time. She had believed him when he'd said that. Hell, she'd seen his hand in the 'defense strategy' that had been used over the days that her case had been presented at the tribunal, so she knew it to be truth. For the first few days, he'd even been present in the chamber. But, that had stopped a day or two ago ….

Jayce scowled. _Maybe Anderson warned him it wouldn't look good on his record if he was seen in there,_ she mused silently, anger churning away in her gut_. Maybe that's why he hasn't messaged me either._

Jayce glanced down at her omni-tool. They'd confiscated her Savant, her 'baby' from the old days that she'd modified and fine-tuned to such levels as to even make Kaidan worry about her; or maybe that was simply jealousy - it was difficult to tell at times and any such claims he made were usually followed with an affectionate chuckle. Upon her arrival at HQ, during her 'processing,' they had taken her Savant and given her one so damned basic that it would only allow her access to the things they wanted her to see ….

Which did not include her email account, it seemed, in addition to the chat programs and other messaging services she normally had access to. _So maybe he did try …? _Well, she could afford to give _HIM_ the benefit of the doubt, at least. The rest of them, though …?

Sighing, Jayce moved to flop onto her bed, grabbing one pillow to prop up behind her and the other to hug close to her chest. _Sweet Maker's knees_, she thought. She was willing to 'pay the piper,' as the saying went, but at what cost? She _HAD_ to find a way to keep the preparations for what was coming going forward! Sure as hell, no one else would be.

But who could she speak with on this account? To this end? Anderson? There was still some bad blood there on Jayce's end for the man's role in deceiving her and Kaidan upon her return to the land of the living, but Jayce knew she had nearly forgiven him for that. From the moment he'd met her at Omega and brought the Lieutenant on board until they arrived back on Earth and handed the _Normandy_ over to Alliance command, they'd spent hours speaking at length about what had happened. In the end, as Kaidan had suggested, there had been solid reasoning behind it. And, while Jayce still to this day did not agree with it, she could do nothing else but accept it. He was her superior officer and a friend.

Another possible line of approach could be through Admiral Hackett. However, seeing as he had been the one to set her off on the mission that had led to this little 'adventure' to begin with, she suspected the chances of him being willing to speak with her anytime in the immediate future would be minimal at best. She couldn't blame him, really. Given his current rank as Fleet Admiral, she knew that, of anyone out there, he would be the one they would absolutely have to have in place if they were to stand any chance of success when the Reapers arrived. He believed in her. Trusted her. He had supported her and the call she had made at Aratoht.

Eyes glued to the far side wall as she stared, internal thoughts so focused she didn't even hear the door opening, it wasn't until she heard a deep, very amused chuckle from the doorway that Jayce came back to the present. Turning, her eyes met a smiling Lieutenant as he entered the room and set the food tray down on the nightstand beside her bed. "Careful, Commander," he joked, nodding to the pillow she had tightly gripped between hands that were clenching and unclenching into tight fists around the ends. "You could be brought up on charges of abuse of power there."

Jayce blinked owlishly at him which caused the younger man to laugh again. "What did that poor _pendejo_ of a pillow ever do to you, anyway?"

Glancing down, Jayce released the offending object and nudged it aside as she sat up and turned to face him. "I'm not really hungry," she told him with a glance over at the tray. Too bad, too. The sandwich there looked to be quite good. "And you really shouldn't be calling me -"

The sound of the grumbling of her stomach put paid to her protests and resulted in her cheeks flaming in embarrassment even as James chuckled softly. "You were saying, _Commander_?" he countered. Then with a cocky grin, he gestured towards the food before turning to leave. "Go on, eat up. I've got a surprise for you later. But," he added just outside the doorway, "you have to eat all of your lunch, first, like a good little Commander." A broad wink before the door closed, and then he was gone.

Staring after him in bewilderment, Jayce shook her head in bemusement. From the discussions they had had since their initial meeting, the Lieutenant had been quite supportive of her and her position in this entire fiasco. At times, even uplifting. She supposed that was what he was attempting to do just then, as well. And, if it was anything like he had done in the past, she knew it would be a hell of a distraction. So then, something to look forward to?

She eyed the tray again. Sandwich, chips, carrots (eww! She hated carrots!) and an apple. Reaching for the bottle of water first, she took a long pull for re-hydration purposes. _Might as well_, she mused as she reached for the sandwich. _It's not like I have anything better to do with my time right now._


End file.
